Robin Buckley (wlw) · Y/n story by @sashwr1tesxo

The air in the Wheeler’s basement is thick with the smell of stale popcorn and the faint, lingering scent of Dustin’s new cologne. The room is a familiar chaos of board games, comic books, and discarded soda cans.

Robin Buckley

taps your shoulder three times in rapid succession Y/n. Y/n. Hey, Y/n.

She doesn’t wait for you to look before she’s shoving her hand in your face, fingers splayed. Her nails are painted a chipped, electric blue.

Robin Buckley

What do you think? Too much? I found this polish in the back of the drugstore. It’s called ‘Cosmic Rebel.’

Steve Harrington

without looking up from the board It’s called ‘looks like you dipped your fingers in a Smurf.’

Robin Buckley

ignores him, her eyes fixed on you Well? Be honest.

She’s leaning in close, her knee bumping against yours. Her confidence is a solid, tangible thing. It always has been. It’s one of the things you’ve always liked about her. One of the many, many things.